On February 16, 2016, a U.S. court ordered Apple to circumvent the security features of an iPhone 5C used by one of the terrorists who committed the San Bernardino shootings. Apple refused. It argued that breaking encryption for one phone could not be done without undermining the security of encryption more generally. It made a public appeal for “everyone to step back and consider the implications” of having a “back door” key to unlock any phone—which governments (and others) could deploy to track users or access their data. The U.S. government eventually withdrew its suit after the F.B.I. hired an outside party to access the phone. But the incident sparked a wide-ranging debate over the appropriate standards of behavior for companies like Apple and for their customers in constructing and using information and communication technologies (ICTs). That debate, in turn, is part of a much larger conversation. Essential as the Internet is, “rules of the road” for cyberspace are often unclear and have become the focus of serious conflicts.

The five essays in this Agora, written by Jack Goldsmith and myself, Ashley Deeks, Ryan Goodman, Rebecca Ingber, and Michael Ramsey, consider the legal legacy of the Obama administration concerning the use of military force, with respect to both domestic law and international law. Prominent developments during the Obama administration relating to war powers include the administration's defense in habeas litigation of its authority to detain members of Al Qaeda and associated groups in military custody; its increased use of targeted killing outside of active combat areas, in part through frequent missile attacks carried out by drones; its use of military force in 2011 against the regime of Libyan leader Muammar Qaddafi, pursuant to a United Nations Security Council resolution; its deliberations in 2013 about the use of military force against Syria in response to the use of chemical weapons by the regime of Syrian President Bashar al-Assad; and its initiation of a long-term conflict against the Islamic State in 2014. This Agora touches on these and other developments and offers a range of perspectives.

It has been said of the redemptive quality of procedural reform that it is “about nine parts myth and one part coconut oil.” Yet, as the recent history of the United Nations shows, failure to enact adequate procedural reform can have damaging consequences for an organization and its activities. In the targeted-sanctions context, litigation in over thirty national and regional courts over due process deficiencies has had a “significant impact on the regime,” placing it “at a legal crossroads.” In the peacekeeping context, the United Nations’ position that claims in the ongoing Haiti cholera controversy are “not receivable” has been described in extensive and uniformly critical press coverage as the United Nations’ “Watergate, except with far fewer consequences for the people responsible.” Complacency in the face of allegations of sexual abuse by UN blue helmets led to the unprecedented ousting of a special representative to the secretary-general in the Central African Republic. Economizing on due process standards is proving to be a false economy.

This article offers a U.S. perspective on the creation of the Yugoslav and Rwanda criminal tribunals as each nears its conclusion following more than twenty years of judicial proceedings. During the period in which the tribunals were created, one of us (MJM) was the Acting Legal Adviser or Principal Deputy Legal Adviser of the U.S. Department of State, and the other (DS) was Senior Adviser and Counsel to the U.S. Permanent Representative to the United Nations and was subsequently the first U.S. Ambassador-at-Large for War Crimes Issues. Given the leading role played by the United States in the process of creating the tribunals, we hope that our perspective might help to illuminate the critical issues faced at that time.

In the fifteen years since the Authorization for Use of Military Force (AUMF) was enacted on September 18, 2001, the Taliban has been removed from power but not eliminated; Osama Bin Laden has been killed and the senior leaders of Al Qaeda as of 9/11 have been captured, killed, or driven underground, although Al Qaeda remains a threat; numerous Al Qaeda affiliates have sprung up around the globe, most notably in Iraq, Yemen, Syria, and Somalia; and most ominously, the Islamic State has arisen from the ashes of Al Qaeda in Iraq to become what the Director of National Intelligence has described as “the preeminent terrorist threat” against the United States “because of its self-described caliphate in Syria and Iraq, its branches and emerging branches in other countries, and its increasing ability to direct and inspire attacks against a wide range of targets around the world.”

Despite massive changes in the geographical scope of the conflict that began on 9/11, the strategy and tactics employed, and the identity of the enemy, the AUMF remains the principal legal foundation under U.S. domestic law for the president to use force against and detain members of terrorist organizations. The AUMF is already the longest operative congressional authorization of military force in U.S. history, and, as of fall 2016, there was no immediate prospect that Congress would move to repeal or update it. With the continued vibrancy of Al Qaeda, its associates, and the Taliban, and with the 2014 presidential extension of the AUMF to cover military operations against the Islamic State, the AUMF is likely to be the primary legal basis for American uses of force for the foreseeable future.

The International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia (ICTY) and the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR) have sentenced over 130 perpetrators for genocide, crimes against humanity, grave breaches of the Geneva Conventions, or war crimes. Sentencing judgments discuss the factors considered by the judges and impose a term of imprisonment. We regressed the sentence length meted out for each perpetrator on the doctrinal factors said to explain the term of imprisonment and on other factors rumored to affect sentencing. We find that the gravity of the crime and aggravating factors declared by the Tribunals as sentencing factors are significantly related to sentence length but that the mitigating factors proclaimed by the tribunals—all but one of which are associated with diplomatic and policy objectives—are not significantly related to the term of imprisonment. We conclude that international criminal sentences prioritize punishment of the individual based on the seriousness of the crime over the other diplomatic and policy goals that the judges claim to be pursuing. We conjecture that this discrepancy is based on functional differences: the sentencing judgment discussion seeks to advance the many policy objectives of the Tribunals, while the declared term of imprisonment is largely an expressive act of retributive justice, which might also facilitate deterrence and reconciliation.

Burns Weston, a member of the Board of Editors of this Journal from 1974 to 1999, and an Honorary Editor thereafter, died unexpectedly on October 28, 2015, late in his eighty-first year, in Iowa City, Iowa. All who knew him, as friend, colleague, student, or collaborator, marveled at his seemingly boundless energy and determination, his focused devotion to whatever project involved him, his deep intellect and flowing humor, his endless imagination for creating a better world, his talent at institution building, and his ongoing curiosity propelling a dedication to achieving progress in the human condition. His professional life featured an inexhaustible determination to use international law to protect human dignity around the world. His interests, expertise, and scholarship in international claims law, human rights law, environmental law, nuclear disarmament, and global governance in particular were surpassing in their consistent excellence, continuous push against familiar doctrinal parameters, and his rich profusion of published scholarship.

When President Barack Obama came into office in 2009 in the midst of serious, ongoing terrorist threats to the United States, he confronted important choices about how to approach the bodies of international law that regulate the resort to force and the conduct of armed conflict. By many accounts, the Bush administration had taken a maximalist approach to those bodies of international law, staking out broad substantive claims about what international law permitted in resorting to force and in detaining and treating members of Al Qaeda, and asserting those claims publicly and frequently.

The Obama administration has repeatedly taken a notably different tack, employing an approach that we might characterize as “executive minimalism.” That is, the Obama administration has signaled to other states its interest in self-constraint by making fewer bold substantive and rhetorical claims related to the jus ad bellum and jus in bello. It has pursued this objective partly by establishing various policies that authorize a narrower scope of action than what some believe international law permits. In particular contexts, it has also been more hesitant as a rhetorical matter to assert precise legal claims about what international law allows or where international law's limits lie. Accordingly, the Obama administration has sometimes taken action in the face of two (or more) possible legal theories without articulating its specific rationale.

We are delighted to participate in this symposium on the legacy of the International Criminal Tribunals for the Former Yugoslavia and for Rwanda (Tribunals; respectively, ICTY and ICTR). We have been asked to offer reflections on the Tribunals’ impact on substantive international criminal law (ICL)—in particular, the definitions of crimes and the modes of liability. Given the enormity of the topic, we can offer only a cursory and impressionist sketch of the terrain, and draw attention to a few intriguing features along the way. We will not attempt to survey the Tribunals’ jurisprudence or the related academic literature. Instead, our aim is simply to highlight three themes underlying the Tribunals’ elaboration of substantive legal standards. For the nonspecialist, this sketch may provide a helpful overview of the evolution of ICL. For the specialist, this sketch may bring into slightly sharper relief some underlying patterns in the Tribunals’ work. We will also offer some broader thoughts about the Tribunals in the overall arc of ICL, and how their structure and priorities have left a lasting, distinctive imprimatur on ICL.

Twenty-five years ago, in this Journal, Hilary Charlesworth, Christine Chinkin, and Shelley Wright argued that the structures of international law “privilege men.” As shown in Table 1, which summarizes data from a forthcoming article, on nine of twelve international courts of varied size, subject-matter jurisdiction, and global and regional membership, women made up 20 percent or less of the bench in mid 2015. On many of these courts, the percentage of women on the bench has stayed constant, vacillated, or even declined over time. Women made up a lower percentage of the bench in mid 2015 than in previous years on two-thirds of the courts surveyed.

The International Court of Justice (Court or ICJ) delivered three judgments in 2015. The first, delivered on February 3, 2015, determines claims of genocide made by Croatia and Serbia against each other. The second, delivered on September 24, 2015, addresses Chile’s preliminary objection in a case brought against it by Bolivia, which asserted that Chile had violated its obligation to negotiate in good faith to secure Bolivia’s sovereign access to the Pacific Ocean. The third, delivered on December 16, 2015, concerns the joined cases brought by Costa Rica and Nicaragua, each party alleging territorial violations and transboundary environmental harms by the other. This review highlights notable points of interest in the judgments and draws attention to particular insights and critiques afforded by the individual opinions that accompany each judgment.

In 2014, a year of memorial ceremonies commemorating the twentieth anniversary of the Rwandan genocide, the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR) marked its own twentieth year with the launch of a “legacy website.” With the closing of the Tribunal scheduled for December 2015, the question of its legacy had become increasingly pressing. The website premiered a video that “celebrates the accomplishments of the ICTR” in a “visually compelling” style. Blurring the distinction between documentary account and film trailer, the video begins with iconic images of the African continent: a boy rolling a hoop down a dirt road; laborers ferrying wares; women in colorful dresses tending children. These scenes of daily life are interrupted by images of men wielding machetes and corpses, interspersed with the figure of the radio, reminding the viewer that the 1994 genocide was encouraged through broadcasts inciting Hutus to take up arms against their Tutsi neighbors. The video lists the Tribunal’s contributions to international criminal law, but also describes a much broader impact: “a record of legal reform in Rwanda, and outreach, education, legal training, and healing.” Young boys leap into a body of water to punctuate the final term, suggesting the hope of a new Rwanda. The narrator proclaims, “today in Rwanda, it’s safe to listen to the radio again: the sound is of a nation rebuilding.” The film’s final words reach beyond the Rwandan context, affirming that ours is “a world pushing forward despite great imperfection, each day closer to a time when international law offers justice to all people, everywhere.”

Since September 11, 2001, legal experts have focused significant attention on the lethal targeting of individuals by both the George W. Bush and Obama administrations. An equally significant legacy of the post-9/11 administrations, however, may be the decisions to target specific kinds of objects. Those decisions greatly affect the success of U.S. efforts to win ongoing conflicts, such as the conflict with the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (ISIL). These decisions may also become precedents for military attacks that states consider lawful, whether carried out by cyber or kinetic means, in future armed conflicts.

To achieve the goal of destroying ISIL, President Obama embraced what many in the international law community long regarded as off-limits: targeting war-sustaining capabilities, such as the economic infrastructure used to generate revenue for an enemy's armed forces. Although the weight of scholarly opinion has for years maintained that such objects are not legitimate military targets, the existing literature on this topic is highly deficient. Academic discussion has yet to grapple with some of the strongest and clearest evidence in support of the U.S. view on the legality of such targeting decisions. Indeed, intellectual resources may be better spent not on the question of whether such objects are legitimate military targets under the law of armed conflict, but on second-order questions, such as how to apply proportionality analysis and how to identify limiting principles to guard against unintentional slippery slopes. In this article, I discuss the legal pedigree for war-sustaining targeting. I then turn to identify some of the most significant second-order questions and how we might begin to address them.

As we contemplate the incoming presidential administration, we stare ahead into uncharted space. It may seem as though recent history leaves us unprepared for what lies ahead. What can a discussion of the Obama war powers legacy, and the transition from the Bush to Obama administration, tell us about a transition from Barack Obama to the next president, and beyond?

Yet there are lessons here. Noone can predict precisely how the president-elect and the team that is installed will confront the rule of law or grapple with the bureaucratic norms that I discuss in this paper. But systemic forces exist inside the executive branch that influence presidential decision-making in each modern administration and, barring a total reimagining of the executive branch, will operate on administrations to come. These internal forces include mechanisms and norms that fall within two broad categories: (1) those that favor continuity and hinder presidents from effecting change, and (2) those that incrementally help ratchet up claims to executive power.

A strange thing about the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia (ICTY) is that for most of its life, it has thought about its death. The Tribunal, of course, kept getting a reprieve. But today it seems more likely than not that the ICTY will indeed close down sometime in 2017, after the conclusion of the two cases it currently has at trial. Yet even after its closure, the ICTY will continue in a sort of un-death, through the unfortunately named Mechanism for International Criminal Tribunals, which will complete retrial and appellate proceedings in the cases currently tried before the ICTY.